


The Cruel Wild

by EllanaSan



Series: Have a Drink Sweetheart (Hayffie Prompts/one shots collection) [46]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Effie background story, Effie's mother - Freeform, Effie's sister - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Haymitch is a good hubby, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, also mentions of twelve's pre rebellion eating habits, cause you know, except if you're in the elindra's fanclub, he takes care of his wife, nobody we truly care about dies in this story, then you will probably care, they ate nice animals XD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29605317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: She couldn’t go on.She couldn’tsayit.Haymitch was studying her so attentively she didn’t think she would have to spell it out anyway. It was obvious it was bad news. It was obvious because only bad news would bring Lyssa to call her so early in the morning, to call herat all. She hadn’t spoken to her sister since before the war.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket
Series: Have a Drink Sweetheart (Hayffie Prompts/one shots collection) [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/71774
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	The Cruel Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: please could you fuck us all up with a fic where post-mj when effie is living in 12 and doesnt speak to her family, she finds out that one of them has passed away and she never got to make amends x

Effie was just hanging up when Haymitch walked into the kitchen, bare-chested and mid-yawn, scratching his stomach. Unlike her, he never got up at the crack of dawn and it was early still for him but when the phone had started ringing, she had had an inkling he would come down. Just in case.

“Who was it?” he mumbled, still dozy.

He made a beeline for the coffee machine and she watched him, feeling quite removed. It was as if her body was there but her mind…

When she didn’t answer immediately, he shot her a curious glance. He wasn’t awake enough to be properly alarmed by her lack of reaction, though, and she shook her head, forcing herself to collect herself, to…

_Eyes bright, chin up, smile on_.

Her mother’s favorite edict flashed into her mind and it was like a knife flicked at her heart.

“Lyssa.” she said finally, her tone as flat as she could make it.

He briefly paused with his newly poured mug of coffee halfway to his mouth. He placed it back down on the counter to turn toward her with a frown. He was watching her carefully now, no more trace of sleep on his face. “Your sister?”

It was cautious.

Mostly because in the two years she had spent in Twelve, Lyssandra had never _once_ made the effort of contacting her. It was usually Effie who tried to call – and got rejected.

“Yes.” She licked her lips. “She wanted to…”

She couldn’t go on.

She couldn’t _say_ it.

Haymitch was studying her so attentively she didn’t think she would have to spell it out anyway. It was obvious it was bad news. It was obvious because only bad news would bring Lyssa to call her so early in the morning, to call her _at all_. She hadn’t spoken to her sister since before the war. Not out of a lack of trying but Lyssa…

Lyssa blamed her for _so many_ things…

He took a step toward her and she stepped back, lifting a hand to fend him off.

If he came closer, if he embraced her, she would lose it.

And she didn’t want to lose it.

She wanted to remain collected.

Because…

Because what else was she even _supposed_ to do? _What_ _else_ was she to do?

Warning her before it hit the papers was just a formality, a _courtesy_ that…

“She would not have called if Father had not insisted.” she whispered.

That, perhaps, hurt most of all.

It was their father who had ordered Lyssandra to call her, to _tell_ her, because he didn’t want her to find out through the media circus that would inevitably hit. However, it hadn’t been enough to make _him_ pick up the phone, no…

If Lyssa had refused to have a conversation with her since before the war, she hadn’t talked to her father in… She had forgotten what his voice sounded like.

When she had showed up at the house, desperate and destitute, a year after the rebellion, it was her mother she had dealt with. It was Elindra who had turned her away with barely enough money for a train ticket. It was Elindra who…

“Effie.”

Her head was spinning and she realized, belatedly, that Haymitch had a firm hold on her elbow and a supportive arm around her waist.

The words came then.

The words came and they were so small for something so huge and terrible that she could barely comprehend them. “Mother is dead.”

Haymitch didn’t seem surprised but, then again, he had probably figured it out.

“Sit down, sweetheart.” He guided her to a chair, awkwardly squeezed her shoulder… “You’re still dizzy? You want… Maybe a shot of liquor would…”

“No.” she refused. She couldn’t bear to see him break out the booze right then. He was doing so much better. _So much_... She had good hopes she would get him to stop drinking altogether in another six months. It hadn’t been easy but he had cut down his alcohol consumption dramatically in the past year and… If she started drinking, he would cave and would drink too and…

“Okay.” He nodded immediately, probably because he could see she was getting worked up on the liquor thing. It was easier to get worked up about that than about… “Did she tell you how…”

He didn’t finish his question out of tact or… She wasn’t sure.

He looked awkward.

As if he wasn’t entirely sure what he ought to do.

“She had a bad reaction to something…” she explained, suddenly realizing she hadn’t entirely listened to Lyssa’s convoluted account. Her sister had been sobbing so hard it had been difficult to understand everything. “She was having another plastic surgery yesterday. I… I think she had a reaction to…” She shook her head. “I cannot remember. It seems so _silly_ … She’s had _a hundred_ of those operations, it is… How can she…” Her throat and her eyes were burning and she swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I need…”

She bolted out of the chair and out of the kitchen before he could try to hold her back. Not that it mattered because even as she reached the top of the stairs and sought refuge in their bedroom, she could hear him hesitantly climb the steps behind her.

For a moment, she entertained the thought of locking herself in the bathroom but… How undignified would _that_ be? In _her own_ house? No, no that would not have been proper at all and, that day of all days, she felt compelled to be proper. So she simply started fixing what Haymitch hadn’t bothered to: she opened the window and then made the bed.

“Stop that.” he said in his most gentle voice when he walked in. His hands, strong and always so steadying, fell on her shoulders and guided her until she was sitting on the mess of blankets rather than trying to put order to them. “I’ll do it later.”

“That would be a first.” she mumbled, clenching her jaw, not because she was angry but because… She needed to keep it _together_. She needed…

“Yeah, well… There are days, sweetheart.” He snorted without any hint of amusement. She watched him round the bed and stop in front of the wardrobe, she watched him reach for the empty suitcase that was gathering dust on top of it…

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Helping.” he grumbled. “And probably setting myself up for a rant about how I can’t fold _shit_ properly.” He placed the suitcase open on the bed next to her and turned to the dresser, opening her underwear drawer. “How many do you think you need?”

He had already lifted three of her lacy panties by the time it dawned on her what he was actually doing. “I am not going.”

He frowned at her, her underwear forgotten in his hand. “Sweetheart…”

“I cannot go back to the Capitol.” She shook her head, her heart racing in her chest at the mere prospect of… “I _cannot_ face the city by myself. I cannot…”

“Of course you won’t do it _by yourself_.” he cut her off with a scoff. “I’m coming with you.”

For a moment, her mind was blank. “But you hate the city…”

“Yeah, but I…” He made a face, took a deep breath and forced himself to say the words he so rarely offered. “I _love_ you.”

As usual, those words washed over her with the strength of a tsunami. They were so rare. A precious gift every time. It had taken him so long to be able to _say_ them… He still wasn’t comfortable handing them around or receiving them like other people did but… Sometimes, not often but sometimes, when she needed to hear it most – and he _always_ knew _when_ she needed to heart it most – he would give them and…

Her eyes were suddenly full of tears she had troubles blinking back.

Her voice was rough and cracking when she spoke next. “I am not going.”

He sighed but it wasn’t impatient, more understanding than anything. “Take it from someone who didn’t get to go to his… You don’t wanna miss your mother’s funeral, sweetheart.” He placed the three panties in the open suitcase. “We’ll be in and out, okay? I’m gonna phone Plutarch… See if we can get a hovercraft lift or something… We might not even have to stay the night…” He winced. “Or we can stay a few days if you want to see your family. Whatever you want. Whatever you need.”

He was being too nice.

Haymitch was only being nice when the situation was dire and it only made it sink that it _was_ because her mother was…

“They do not want me there.” she confessed.

He frowned. “What?”

“Lyssa said they do not want to see me and that Mother certainly would not have wanted me to come.” she whispered. “She and Father think that if I come, it would disrupt the purpose because the press would be all about me and… And if _you_ come, it is true, you know it is true, it will be all about _us_ and it will kick up the whole _she was pardoned because she was his slut_ debate and…”

“Don’t call yourself that.” he growled, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed. He reached for her hand but she snatched it away before he could touch it.

She would fall apart.

If he touched her, she would fall apart.

“But it is true. You know it is, they are right.” she insisted. “And…”

“What do _you_ want to do?” he interrupted, his grey eyes riveted on her with far too much intensity. He could see she was about to freak out probably. It wasn’t because it didn’t happen often nowadays that he had forgotten the signs. “Forget about them. Forget about the press, I can have Plutarch deal with that… What do _you_ want to do?”

“My family do _not_ want me there, Haymitch.” she snapped. “ _Mother_ would not have wanted me there. What am I _supposed_ to do?” The anger died as soon as it had flared and she shook her head, reached for the cigarettes and the silver lighter she kept in her nightstand and stood up. “I need some air.”

“Effie…” It was tentative, just as tentative as the attempt he made to grab her hand again. She avoided it.

“I need some air.” she repeated.

She was relieved when he didn’t follow her as she stormed out of the house, barely remembering to snatch her jacket on the way because autumn in Twelve was chilly. She made it all the way out of the Village and halfway through the no-man’s-land of wilderness that separated the District proper from the woods.

There was nobody around and that was what she wanted.

She flopped down on a big rock, lit her first cigarette in months and breathed in the familiar taste of tobacco.

She pretended her throat was burning because of the cigarette and not because of the tears she was still refusing to let loose.

Her mind was a mess of random thoughts, random memories, random regrets… There was no order to the storm and no way to rail it in. She wanted to focus on something else, the fabric she had just ordered for that new dress she had sketched the other night or even that recipe for lemon cakes Peeta had promised to help her try even though it would most likely end with burned baked goods… She couldn’t.

She couldn’t stop remembering insignificant moments shared with her mother, frantically trying to recall good ones and miserably falling short… Slowly, bitterness replaced the sorrow.

She had tried to be the daughter Elindra wanted, she had tried _so hard_ …

And in the end, it had never been enough. _She_ had never been enough…

And now it was too late.

“Effie, you’re okay?”

She blinked, returning back to the present moment only to find Katniss standing right in front of her, with a weird look on her face. The girl was clearly coming back from her daily hunt and one glance at the sun told Effie she had been sitting there far longer than she had thought.

She hastily crushed the cigarette on the rock because she _never_ smoked when the children could see her – and she was quite ashamed to have gotten caught, she had always managed to sneak around with that bad habit. Katniss’ eyes tracked the cigarette in her hand and widened when she caught sight of the multiple buds on the rock.

Effie realized at the same time that she had mechanically replaced each finished cigarette with another. She had made a dent in her package. There were only five left.

She forced a smile for the girl’s sake and pocketed the packet and the lighter in the hope that it would be out of sight out of mind. “Did you have a nice hunt, dear?”

Her voice wasn’t as steady or as cheerful as she would have liked and Katniss immediately picked up on it. She was still frowning, still watching her as if she was being weird…

“Not really.” the girl said slowly. “Not much game today. Are you sure you’re…”

The messenger bag that was always hanging across Katniss’ shoulder when she went to the woods moved and Effie startled, watching it warily. “What do you have in there?”

“Oh.” Katniss said, momentarily distracted from finding out what was wrong with her. She lifted the flap and a small furry head immediately poked out, sniffing the air. “I found him in the woods.”

“A puppy!” she exclaimed, delighted.

She reached out but Katniss took a hasty step back. “Careful, it’s a wild dog. They can be dangerous.”

The puppy looked anything but dangerous. It had a light brown fur with patches of grey and pointy ears and it looked very eager to sniff her hand. When it became clear it wouldn’t bite her, Katniss stepped closer again, letting Effie pet the little ball of fur that was clearly trying to escape his prison.

“He’s young.” The girl shrugged. “I couldn’t find the rest of the litter but I found an empty snare and blood so…”

“Oh, do you think the mother accidentally got caught in a snare?” Effie asked, her eyes filling with tears that she didn’t quite manage to bat back this time. Her heart broke right there and then and she might have stopped fighting the sorrow that wanted to crash over her since that morning if Katniss hadn’t snorted.

“Don’t think it was an _accident_ , no.” the girl said.

The puppy was pushing its head into her palm and Effie obligingly petted him behind the ears, feeling suddenly very cold. “What do you mean?”

Katniss shifted her weight on one foot and then the other, a sure tell that she was ill-at-ease. “Well… You know before the war… They’re wild dogs, Effie… Most of them are part dog and part wolf, they can be unpredictable… Some people used to breed them even so they could sell them when they got big enough…” She stared at the girl, not understanding a thing, and Katniss looked more and more awkward. “It’s… You know… Meat…”

“ _Meat_.” she repeated, horrified.

“I didn’t think anyone was still hunting them.” the girl winced. “We’ve got plenty of other game nowadays but… I guess… Some habits die hard? And it doesn’t taste bad, you know… It’s…”

“Give me this puppy.” she demanded, immediately reaching inside Katniss’ bag.

The dog seemed delighted with that idea since it was already trying to escape by flapping its back legs.

“I wasn’t going to…” Katniss protested, not quite trying to prevent her from picking up the puppy but not quite helping her either. “I’m just going to drop him off in town…” 

“So it can end up in someone’s plate in a few months?” she snapped. “I do _not_ think so.”

She finally managed to free the ball of fur from the girl’s bag. The puppy squirmed and tried to escape her hands but it wasn’t big or strong enough that she couldn’t manage to keep him trapped in her arms.

“Be careful, it could bite you!” Katniss warned, jogging after her when Effie stormed away toward the Village. “It’s a _cub_ , not a puppy, Effie!”

She refused to listen.

_Of all the barbaric_ …

She was _vaguely_ aware her victor was still running after her, hurrying to keep pace with Effie’s brisk steps, talking about… Oh, she didn’t know. Her ears were ringing and her fingers were prickling and she felt like collapsing on the side of the road and having the panic attack that had been looming since that morning. But she would _not_. Because there was _no way in hell_ she would let the girl have the puppy back.

And she didn’t care what Katniss had to say, it _was_ a puppy.

A cute puppy who hadn’t tried to bite her once. At most it was wriggling and licking her fingers or her throat and letting out such heartbreaking keening noises that Effie decided right then and there that she would _die_ before letting anyone hurt it.

She slammed the back door to the kitchen open so hard that Haymitch badly startled. He had gotten dressed and he was rummaging through the cupboards, probably trying to decide what to make for lunch… He watched her with worried eyes that widened when he spotted the squirming animal she was cradling against her chest.

“I am opening an animal shelter!” she declared before he could say anything.

“What the _fuck_ …” he started.

She didn’t stop to hear the rest, barely caught Katniss’ apologies. “I was going to drop it at Sae! I didn’t mean for her to see it!”

She growled low under her breath. As if _that_ made it better.

The growl seemed to have a sobering effect on the puppy because it stopped wriggling, subdued. Perhaps it was wilder than what she was used to but then what? She had always had a taste for the wild. She wouldn’t have preferred Haymitch to all those sensible Capitol men otherwise. She would have pleased her mother and married a proper gentleman if she hadn’t.

She dropped on her bed and finally released the puppy who seemed a bit lost by his change in environment for a second. Just a second. Then it started sniffing the bed comforter and then Effie’s hand. She petted its head and it seemed satisfied, nudging her hand harder with its little head…

“Nothing will happen to you.” she promised. “I will protect you.”

She wasn’t sure if it could understand her or not but it tilted its head to the side and then barked and then started sniffing around the bed again. She watched him explore, deciding that he did look like a cross between a wolf and a dog now that she could see it better. But it was still _beautiful_.

It would need a bath, though. And a _collar_ because she wasn’t having anyone confuse it for their next meal.

And it was big already for something Katniss had said was young enough to need its mother.

It was also clearly a boy.

She had heard him come up the stairs and so she wasn’t surprised when Haymitch leaned against the doorframe, of course, but it didn’t stop her from shooting him a glare, her lips pursed. If her eyes were shiny, he had the presence of mind not to call her out on it.

“Did you _ever_ make me eat wild dog without telling me?” she snapped.

“Of course not.” he sighed. “That was… That was _before_. When people were starving. Didn’t think anyone was still doing it, to be honest. Maybe it was just accident, you know… People put snares for rabbits, maybe…”

“Please.” she scoffed and then stared at the puppy who had made his way to her abandoned suitcase. He was obviously contemplating climbing inside. “I am not giving him up.”

Haymitch was silent for a moment, too long. So long that she knew he was actually contemplating what he wanted to say and how to say it without offending her.

He never bothered choosing his words so carefully unless he thought she was in a _fragile_ state.

She hated it when he did that.

That wasn’t how they worked.

“You ain’t really a dog person.” he pointed out. “I can find him a good family…”

“So he can end up as a delicate District dish for you barbarians!” she shouted. “ _Absolutely not_!”

The puppy was alarmed by her raised voice and hurried back to her, growling low in his throat. His attention was now entirely on Haymitch, clearly perceiving him as a threat.

Haymitch tensed. “Not all wild dogs make good pets. If he’s too wild…”

She ran her hand on the puppy’s bristled spine and he settled down after a few strokes. His butt flopping down on the bed almost comically. “He’s not wild, he is just protective of me because I saved him and _I am keeping him_.”

The tone broke no arguments and she knew she was behaving like a spoiled brat because it was his house too and they both knew he would be the one ending up dealing with practicalities like walks and the like. 

He sighed, stepping closer. He eyed the puppy just as warily as the puppy eyed him but she kept a restrictive hand on his back and when he didn’t growl again, Haymitch cautiously sat down on the bed. He held his hand out even more cautiously as if afraid the dog would bite it off.

Her puppy was well behaved though and it simply sniffed. After a few seconds, he must have decided that Haymitch was alright because he started licking his fingers and nudging them to get petted.

Haymitch finally relaxed but even though he stroke the puppy’s fur, his grey eyes settled on her. “Effie, sweetheart… You had a rough morning. You want the dog, keep the dog… But that’s not why you’re upset…”

“I am upset because Katniss was smuggling an innocent puppy to a restaurant to get cooked.” she hissed.

“She wasn’t…” he started and then made a face. “Sae doesn’t cook wild dogs anymore. She’s very proud of having a _proper_ restaurant. She’s just the person everyone brings their problems to, so Katniss thought she’d know what to do with him. And… Nobody enjoyed eating dogs, sweetheart, but when you’re starving…”

She turned her head away, not willing to hear it.

“Okay fine.” he granted. “Maybe I knew that would be more of an issue than you knowing we were eating rats and squirrels so I told the kids not to mention it.” He shrugged. “Look, it’s in the past now. That’s over…”

“Not for everyone apparently.” she grumbled, gently scratching the puppy behind his ears.

“You want me to start looking for whoever is still hunting wild dogs and give them a lecture?” he deadpanned.

She pursed her lips at him, absolutely not amused, and lifted the puppy so she could cradle him against her chest and drop kisses on his furry head. Haymitch tensed when the dog’s snout came close to her throat but she was so certain he would never hurt her… And all the puppy did was lick and wiggle his little tail in pleasure.

“He is a good boy.” she declared, shooting him a chiding look for even doubting her instincts. “And he just lost his mother. I am not leaving him alone in the wild.”

Haymitch watched her closely, placing a hand on her knee. “Is that what it’s about? The mother?”

“Please, stop trying to psychoanalyze me.” she huffed. “Yes, perhaps, I am a little overwhelmed this morning but I can _guarantee_ I still would have adopted this dog if it had happened any other day of the week.”

“Sweetheart…” he said slowly. “You haven’t even cried yet.”

“And I don’t intend to!” she hissed, placing the puppy back down on the bed. It ran to Haymitch, climbing on his lap, demanding an attention he only distractedly gave him with his grey eyes still on her. “Why _would_ I?”

“She was a _shitty_ mom but she was still your mom.” he offered simply.

“Do not talk ill of the dead. It is rude.” she chided.

He was quickly growing frustrated, she could see it. “I know what it’s like to…”

“No, you do _not_.” she cut him off. He looked more hurt than offended so she shook her head. “I am sorry, darling, but you do _not_. Your mother _loved_ you. She has loved you all her life and, when she died, you _knew_ she loved you. _My_ _mother_ …” Her voice unexpectedly broke on those words. It broke and it was all she could do to swallow the sob because she was not, _she was not,_ going to cry. “My mother _despised_ me.”

He licked his lips but he didn’t try to tell her it wasn’t true.

The puppy clearly sensed she was upset and waddled back toward her with a whine, lying down in front of her and rolling on his back… She rubbed his belly, her sight blurred.

Haymitch snorted. “Only you can tame a wild cub in five minutes. You know it means he trusts you, right? That’s submission right there. The _fucking_ half-wolf adopted you.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t trust her voice.

She kept on petting and playing with the puppy even when Haymitch moved so he could sit next to her instead.

This time, when he wrapped his arms around her, she didn’t protest. Her breath caught in her throat and there was no disguising her sniffs but she didn’t protest.

“She was a _bitch_.” He pressed a kiss under her ear. “And she was stupid.”

“She didn’t love me.” she whispered. “If she had…” She pinched her mouth tight for a second, just long enough to make sure she could keep talking without dissolving into tears. Haymitch’s arms tightened around her. “What kind of mother… Do you remember when she came to the hospital? I was lying there… I was all bandaged up and… All she cared about was _Lyssa_ … I almost died and all she cared about was saving that… that…”

“Scumbag.” Haymitch helpfully suggested.

“ _Scumbag_.” she repeated, her voice breaking again.

That was the only visit Elindra had paid her. After her rescue, in the middle of the Purge, after Lyssandra’s husband had been arrested for once being a Gamemaker… Elindra had visited her to _demand_ Effie used her relations to get him out of the mess he was in. She hadn’t cared that Effie had been so obviously hurt or that her own fate was more than uncertain, all she cared about was to please her eldest daughter and that meant securing peace with her youngest even though she was so terribly ashamed of her.

Her family had cut off all ties after Effie had sent her packing. Well, _Haymitch_ had sent her packing, really, because he had still been trying to save _her_ at the time and he had no energy to waste on the likes of Rufus.

Lyssa had blamed her for her husband’s execution.

Elindra had been only too happy to avoid the scandal surrounding her status as the “last living escort” and the gossip about the reason _why_ she hadn’t been executed with everyone else, never mind her vocal disapproval of her relationship with Haymitch…

And her father… Tadius had only been happy to follow her mother’s directives when it came to their daughters, like always.

“What kind of mother cares more for her son-in-law than her daughter?” she asked.

“The bad kind.” He sighed. “The kind you’re _not_.”

“I am not a mother.” she scoffed.

“I’ve got two concerned kids downstairs who’d probably disagree with that.” he mocked playfully, pressing another kiss to her throat. “Katniss can’t come but Peeta says he’s gonna make the trip with us if you decide you want to go to the funerals. I’ve called Plutarch, he can get us a hovercraft. We just have to tell him when.”

“I do not know _when_.” she replied. “Lyssa told me _not_ to come, she was not about to tell me the particulars.” She waved a hand. “And, of course, Peeta will _not_ come. He hates the city as much as you do.” She shook her head. “And did you even _listen_? She did not love me. She _never_ loved me. Why would I… Why would I…”

Tears slipped and she hastily brushed them off.

The puppy was whining again and she petted him, resisting the urge to lift him up. He wasn’t a cuddle toy. But…

“Cause you’re you.” Haymitch said softly, nuzzling her neck. “And I know you’re gonna regret not saying goodbye.”

“She didn’t love me.” she insisted.

He didn’t say anything for the longest time and he seemed almost reluctant when he sighed. “Is that true? Cause I know she was a _bitch_ but you’ve always said… You’ve always said she loved you, sweetheart.”

“I was a constant disappointment.” she argued.

“That’s not the same as not loving you.” he pointed out. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. _You_ loved her. You ain’t going for her, you’re going for you. To get closure. Trust me, if you don’t… That kind of _shit_ festers.”

“I _cannot_ go, we _just_ got a puppy.” It was a very weak argument and she knew it. “He doesn’t even have a name yet.”

“Tell you what… You’re gonna think up names I won’t completely hate while I call Plutarch back and tell him to find out when the funeral is.” he suggested. “Then we’re gonna pack and we’re gonna leave the kids in charge of the dog for the time it takes to get to the Capitol and back. Sounds good?”

“Are you one hundred percents certain Katniss won’t cook him into a pie or something?” she hesitated. “She said he was _meat_.”

She stopped resisting the urge to lift the puppy up to cuddle him. The dog wasn’t delighted and when Haymitch gently pried him from her arms, he hopped off the bed to explore the rest of the bedroom.

She felt bereft and she was grateful when Haymitch wrapped his arms back around her.

“Yeah, well… She can be a bit of an idiot. That’s what makes her so endearing, yeah?” he mocked. “They’re not fans of dogs. Their Games…”

The mutts.

She made a face. “I forgot. Perhaps…”

“It’s just a puppy. They can deal.” he cut her off. “But we won’t ask them to babysit when he gets bigger, alright? You _get_ that he’s gonna get _a lot_ bigger, yeah?”

She watched the puppy disappear in the bathroom. “How much bigger?”

She felt him shrug behind her. “Depends on the kind of dog that bred with the wolf… Given the look of him, I’d say… Big. Still want him?”

“He is mine now.” she growled.

“Okay, fine.” He sounded amused. “But he’s not a poodle so if he’s getting fed up with the cuddles, don’t insist. He’s…”

“He is from the wild, yes, I understand that.” she cut him off.

“He looks like a nice puppy though.” he amended. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger already. He’s still gonna need some training… He’s probably peeing on the bath mat right now.”

She pursed her lips in distaste but she didn’t find the energy to worry about it or rush to the bathroom to prevent a disaster. She leaned against his chest, letting him support her weight. “I am tired…”

“Take a nap.” He kissed her shoulder. “I’m gonna go take care of…”

“Can you stay here a little while longer and hold me?” she requested.

“Yeah.” he immediately agreed. “Yeah, sure.”

She wasn’t sure how long they remained like that. Long enough that the puppy wandered back out of the bathroom to check they were still there. He sat and stared at them for a while and then decided they were boring and disappeared out the bedroom door, sniffing around more of his new territory.

If she strained her ears, she could hear the faint rumble of the children’s voices in the kitchen.

“My mother is dead.” she said at some point, just to speak the words out loud, just to _hear_ them, just to…

The sobs wrecked her chest and, this time, there was no holding them back.

Haymitch didn’t seem surprised. If anything, he looked a little relieved that she was done bottling her feelings up.

He held her while she cried, murmuring comforting words in her ears when she struggled to breathe between two hiccups… He was still holding her when she drifted off, exhausted by all the crying…

“I love you, princess.”

She wasn’t sure if he really whispered the words in her hair or not because twice in one day was unprecedented but she felt better when she fell asleep.

She was loved.

She was loved at last and that was the important thing.

**Author's Note:**

> That's not quite my default hc for how it goes but... It's quite an ironical end for Elindra isn't it? Maybe for further down the line... Anyway, I won't ask if you liiiiked it but did you not hate it? Was Haymitch the best husband or what? Because I think he was at the top of his game here... Also see, I am not mean, she gets a puppy out of the whole ordeal XD


End file.
